The Writing Ghost
by MoonlightUmbreon
Summary: One night, the Ghostwriter decides to get some inspiration in the real world. He had no idea that a chance meeting with Jazz Fenton would guide him to a world that he'd missed out on. It just shows friendship can always survive, no matter the circumstance
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**

I don't own Danny Phantom or any related characters. Same thing goes with The Lord of the Rings, The Road to Rondo, Moby Dick and Harry Potter. I only own this plot. You lawyers that I know are watching can back off now. points freakishly huge ecto-gun around

**Author's Note**

A plot bunny that would absolutely not let me fall asleep, even at 2:32am. Please read and review, and tell me my sacrifice of sleep was not in vain. This story will remain a oneshot unless I get an outstanding amount of feedback. I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I officially have way too much on my plate. Come to think of it, I've wanted to write something on the Ghost Writer for a while now, ever since I saw The Fright Before Christmas. (sadly, that was only a few weeks ago. There are fans in Australia too, Nick!)

**--**

**The Writing Ghost**

**By MoonlightUmbreon**

Jazz Fenton loved to read, especially things about psychiatary. However, that wasn't on her mind that night in bed. Instead, she was taking a look at The Lord of the Rings. To her great surprise, she was actually enjoying it. With the add previews for the movies, all she saw was a lot of sharp swords. However, the book was a different story. It was a whole lot more than a lot of sharp swords. So, so much more. Truelly, it was intelligent writing.

Floating a few inches off the ground invisibly, the Ghost Writer watched her read, reminding himself of how much he had enjoyed the very same book. He was tall and looked around 25, with black hair, glowing green eyes and a long scarf around his neck. He would have looked almost human and completely docile had it not been for the pointed teeth and very pale blue skin. As Jazz licked her finger and turned the page, the Ghost Writer looked at her bookshelf. Surely, there wasn't any more room for a single other book to be stuffed in. Most, he noticed, where on psychiatary. He wasn't a big fan on fiction, but hey, everyone liked to read different things. He also noticed that there were a couple of books with poems inside. That was more his style. That wasn't even one tenth of the books there, this girl, only being around sixteen, had an amazing number. There was from Moby Dick to the Harry Potter series. Wondering briefly whether or not the girl had read each and every one of those books, he turned back to her as she licked her finger again and turned the page, anxious to continue reading.

He didn't know what had posessed him to do this, but he suddenly became visible. At first, the girl (who was apparently called Jazz, as suggested by the award on the wall) didn't notice. She kept on reading, too absorbed to take her eyes off the book or even notice te world around her. _In one respect, she's a lot like me. _the Ghost Writer thought vaguely, remembering the time that he was reading The Road to Rondo by Emily Rodda and The Box Ghost had come in. It had taken several minutes and a box full of spanners thrown at his head before he realized the annoyance was even there. And _then _he was still reluctant to put the book down.

Jazz looked briefly at the clock, from the oppisite side of the Ghost Writer. As she noticed the time was 2am, she gasped and put the book in a crammed draw. She turned over to get into a better sleeping position when she saw the Ghost Writer, floating just beside her book case, silently watching. Jazz immediately screamed, but realized no one could help; Danny was at a school camp, her father slept like a rock and her mother slept with ear plugs in to defray the noise of her father's snoring.

Giving a frightened look, Jazz summoned the bravery to speak, despite being cornered with not a ghost weapon in sight. "Go away..." she whispered. "Don't hurt me, just go away."

Trying to look mildly surprised, the Ghost Writer replied. "Why would I hurt you? You've given me no reason to. Besides..." he paused for a moment. "You remind me much of my teenage self. With your unrestrained love of literature."

"I... what?" Jazz stammered. "Why... why are you here?"

"I write many poems and stories. The Ghost Zone is not the best place for inspiration, but the real world..." he paused again. "Is full of it. If I'm correct, your name is Jazz Fenton?"

"How do you know that...?" Jazz asked suspiciously, only to have the ghost writer point at her award for 'Outstanding CAT Marks'.

"Your certificate." he replied bluntly.

"Well... why are you hanging around me? How long have you been here? And what's your name, who are you, and why should I trust you?"

The Ghost Writer looked at his watch. "I've been here a good fifteen minutes, now. My name is the Ghost Writer, and like I said, you remind me of myself. To be completely honest, I don't know a way a ghost could be trusted by a human. Everyone fears us too much, whether or not we are good or bad. The problem is the malevolent ones are the ones who like coming here to stir up trouble. For us who are not so bad... we don't get a good reputation. And because of that... friends are torn... and we cannot revisit the real world, even if we really want too... I missed my chance a long time ago..."

Jazz could see the utter dissappointment on the ghost's face. And suddenly, she trusted him. Just like that, he had earned her trust with that look of sadness currently on his face. This wasn't a malevolent spirit, just a torchered soul who was asking for help although not out loud. Perhaps even subconsciously. "Come downstairs, I'll get you some cocoa." she said without really thinking. The Ghost Writer's mood suddenly perked up to one of great surprise and happiness.

"Really?" he dared to believe it. Jazz nodded, carefully getting out of the bedsheets so as not to untuck them. Quietly, she tiptoed over to the door and opened it up, causing a loud creeking sound.

"Your family won't hear?"

Jazz shook her head. "Dad sleeps like a rock and Mom sleeps with ear plugs in. And my brother's at a camp, so he's way too far away to notice anything."

Jazz walked down the stairs, the Ghost Writer floating behind her. He felt very odd at being accepted so quickly, (at all, actually) but certainly wasn't complaining. Maybe the girl already knew that not all ghosts where bad. That certainly was a miracle. As they got to the kitchen, she pulled out a seat for him. Thanking her kindly, he sat down and looked around. When he had come from the portal, he hadn't taken much in on the way up at all, obviously, because he hadn't noticed that not only stacked on many of the shelves was not just the odd edible object amung other glowing green food, but many ecto weapons as well. That had made him slightly nervous, knowing that if anyone in this family were to turn on him, he would be blasted into oblivion and unable to truly protect himself without his special keyboard. Jazz noticed him shift in his chair nervously as he looked around.

"Yeah, I try not to think about it either." Jazz said, looking up at the creations of her parents. "My parents, they hunt ghosts, so that explains why there's a portal in our basement. Personally, I think they're insane. Okay, so maybe we do need some ghost hunters in this town, but my parents are accentric. No denying that."

He felt a little more comfortable after Jazz had told him that. She wouldn't turn on him. And it was unlikely that they would come down. So he was relatively safe, as long as lady luck remained on his side. After a minute, Jazz brought back two hot cups of cocoa with her. She set one on his side of the table and took her own to the other side, where she sat down and took a sip. He looked at his own, it had been a long time since he'd eaten or drank anything; Walker disliked food and drink and dissallowed it's presense in the Ghost Zone.

"You know that, really I am grateful for this." the Ghost Writer said suddenly after taking a sip of his own cocoa and almost choking as he realized how hot it was. "Most people, they just scream and run."

She looked thoughtful, as if mulling something over. "I know I wouldn't usually say anything like this to any of you except the Box Ghost, but I feel... relatively safe. If you were malevolent, you wouldn't have waited this long to lash out at me."

"Oh, the Box Ghost." the Ghost Writer replied with distaste. "I can't believe he even qualifies as a ghost. He's less scary than I am and I don't even try!"

"Yeah..." Jazz trailed off in thought. "I remember when I used to think he was called the Crate Creep."

The Ghost Writer cracked a grin, showing pointed teeth, and silently laughed. Jazz flinched slightly from the sight of the teeth. "See, I'm already more scary than he is!"

"Oh, sorry, I'm just not used to things like that." Jazz pointed out. The Ghost Writer shrugged. "Anyway... since you were hanging around my room, there's nothing I can help you with?"

Looking thoughtful, the Ghost Writer answered. "Actually there is. Really, I came here for the inspiration hoping I wouldn't get caught by the ghost hunters of this town. Or Danny Phantom, I don't think he'd take my presence too well."

Jazz interrupted. "Why not Danny Phantom? Why wouldn't he take you so well?"

"Well... the thing is that last Christmas, he was... getting rid of some anger, I guess you could call it. He had come to the Ghost Zone to blow up a few decorations, in a randomn place that just happened to be outside my lair. He accidentally misfired and blew up a long poem I had written, called The Fright Before Christmas. I became angry when he showed no remorse for what he had done after discovering it was about Christmas, so I acted a little irrationally. I wrote him into The Fright Before Christmas 2."

"That doesn't sound so bad. I'd love to be written into someone elses' poem." Jazz commented, however the Ghost Writer shook his head.

"Not in the way you'd think. I have a special keyboard that quite literally makes every word that I type become real. Quite a disaster in the wrong hands, so I've always used it sparingly. However, that half ghost had really gotten on my nerves. Especially being on Christmas Eve. So I wrote him into it, making him act it out, including his friends, his mother, his father... you too."

"So... all that wierdness last Christmas..."

"Yes, it was me." The Ghost Writer admitted. "But I am sorry. And it did finish on a good note, did it not? And I achieved my main goal with it. Danny Fenton learned a lesson."

"He did too..." Jazz said. "I remember him speaking in rhyme a lot, as well."

"So, anyway, he probably won't welcome my presence. I was going to sit up at the opp center above to get a good view of the town. However, on my way I came through your room. You were reading, so I decided to stay for a minute to see what you were so interested in at..." the Ghost Writer paused for a moment, taking a quick look at his watch and a sip from the now thankfully cooler cocoa. "2am. Then I saw your bookshelf. There was so many books there I stopped to look at them all. Your love of reading intrigued me... I had a quick thought that maybe..."

"Yes?" Jazz questioned. "Maybe what?"

"That maybe you'd like to read my works?" he asked, hope in his eyes. "Tell me what you think of them? On how I can improve further?"

Jazz didn't really know how to reply. She didn't know if she was glad or scared, but she certainly did know she was confused. "But what about the other ghosts? Don't they like reading?"

"Not really, no. They don't appreciate a printed word. But if you don't want to..."

"I'll do it!" Jazz said suddenly, shocking herself.

"You _will_?!" The Ghost Writer said, equally, if not more shocked at her reaction. "You're actually going to agree?!"

"Yes." Jazz said, taking a huge swig of the cocoa, trying to come to her senses that she'd agreed to do something with a ghost other than Danny.

Taking a few mouthfuls of hot cocoa, the Ghost Writer stood up. Just before he phased down into the lab, he said "I'll be right back."

Truth be told, that wasn't the only reason he was interested in Jazz Fenton.

In time, he'd tell her.

--

**Author's Note**

Before you ask me, yes, I am being evil. I think I'll let you make your own decision of the Ghost Writer's other interest. And no, before anyone asks, he doesn't _like _her, it's something else.

Peace,

MoonlightUmbreon


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note**

You asked for a sequel, and so, you're going to get a sequel. Again, this was written in the early hours of the morning, so _please, _I hope you appreciate it. Thanks: D

**--**

**Let me Introduce you to my Parents...**

**By MoonlightUmbreon**

Jazz Fenton flipped through a book binded by what looked like electricity. Strange, though. It didn't seem to shock on contact with the skin. Don't judge a book by it's cover, or in this case, it's binder. Finally, she opened it to the first page to look at the story contained inside.

However, a few minutes later, Jazz could hear one of her parents coming up the stairs, and considering the book was bound with (electricity??), she didn't want either to see. Then they might trace it back to the Ghost Writer, and... well... she didn't want to think about it. Swiftly, Jazz stuffed it into her draw and sighed in relief as her parents burst through the door.

"WE KNOW YOU'RE IN HERE GHOST!" Jack yelled in a voice so loud that it could have rattled the roof, or to their great peril, the opp center above.

"Dad, there aren't any ghosts in here!" Jazz said impatiently. "Please, leave me alone for a while from your insane obsession with ghosts!"

"But... I don't understand! The Fenton Ghost Tracker detected trace amounts of ectoplasm! There is or was _something _in here! In fact the signals coming from inside your draw, Jazzypants."

"Oh, that's... um... a... an... ectogun! It's so I can protect myself, there's _no _need to check inside."

"Jazz, we've told you and Danny on four separate occasions that all ectoguns have lead casing that stops any of the unique harmless radiation from being picked up by trackers! Now let me take a look in that draw..."

"No!" Jazz cried as her overly-large father pushed her thin body out of the way of the draw. As he opened it up, he saw the book that had 'Untitled' written on the front cover and was bound with electricity. Staring at it, then to his daughter, then back to the book again and finally back to Jazz, he gaped.

"_Where _did you get this? Hm?"

"A friend gave it to me!" Jazz said quickly, in what seemed more like a plead of desparation than an explanation. "Said it's been in his family for generations and that I'd really enjoy it!"

"In that case then..." Jack said, looking rather disappointed. Jazz began thanking her lucky stars a little too soon, unfortunately. "Hey, wait... if it's got ectoplasmic traces, it must have come from the Ghost Zone, sweet!"

Jazz couldn't help it, normally she wouldn't use this kind of language, but this was an exception. "Oh, crud! Dad, you can't! My friend said not to let anyone else get their hands on it because it's an heirloom! Please, hear me out!"

Clearly not listening, Jack picked the book up and began to hurry downstairs with it to show his wife, and then perform God-knows-what experiments on it. Jazz quickly followed after him, desparately trying to snatch the Ghost Writer's book back. However, Jack was huge compared to Jazz, so she didn't stand a chance against him. Heck, there wasn't any room down the staircase for anyone to squeeze through. Nothing would make her father give up that book now, he was like a child in a toy store when it came to ghost hunting. In a desparate attempt, Jazz hung onto his back for dear life and began climbing over his shoulder. Unfortunately, the roof of the stairs got too low and she was knocked backwards, her back painfully falling on the edges of the staircase. Almost (but holding herself back) from the point of cursing, Jazz stood up and cracked her back in the places she had landed on. Jack, however, had already gotten down into the basement. Sweating from the frustration and pain, Jazz followed.

"Get your hands off this book, ghost!" Jack yelled, tugging the book in his direction.

"But it's _my _book, _I _wrote it!" The Ghost Writer said angrily, pulling it back to himself.

"But we need to run it for tests and -"

"You will not!" The Ghost Writer spat, pulling it away and phasing it out of Jack's grip, then flying higher where he couldn't b reached. "I wrote this book, do not go destroying my hard work! Ugh!

"Never, ghost! You must've planted this in Jazzypants's room so it could do something! Didn't you? Didn't you?!"

"Dad, No!" Jazz yelled as she saw her father moving to the Jack 'o Nine Tails. He picked it up and glared angrily at the Ghost Writer while he swung back on it. Jazz ran up and clutched onto all of the ends, so that the main rope snapped when Jack went to throw it. Turning around and looking at her with confusion, Jack pouted at his broken invention.

"I'm sorry dad, but I can't let you hurt him. I'm not overshadowed, no ghost has done anything at all to change my mind, he's _good._"

Jack Fenton, a famous, if not bumbling, ghost hunter looked absolutely baffled. The words telling him that there was a single ghost out there in the Ghost Zone or the real world that was actually _good _spelt untold confusion in his eyes, making his brain hurt severely with all the absolutely impossible thoughts traveling through it. The Ghost Writer looked like he was holding his breath, ready to fly for dear life at the slightest movement to do harm from Jazz's father.

"Ghost... good?"

"Yes!" Jazz said exasperatedly. "Ghost good! Not bad! Please, dad, he's harmless as long as you don't go _giving _him reasons to hate you! Just like anyone else.

From upstairs, quick footsteps were coming. _It must be Mum, _Jazz thought. _Danny's still at camp. _The Ghost Writer became invisible immediately as the footsteps came closer and closer. It didn't sound good, especially since he heard an angry Maddie Fenton's voice reverberate through the basement lab.

"Get away from my husband and daughter you filthy piece of evil, ectoplasmic scum!"

Jazz and the Ghost Writer both sighed. _This _was bound to be a long night...

**--**

**Author's Note**

Okay, so it's not the longest thing in the world, but it was hard to write. I ended up with eight people reviewing, half of which asking me to continue. So thanks, to all of you. Big thanks. Looks like I'll be listening to the somewhat EVIL PLOT BUNNIES that COME INTO MY HEAD UNINVITED from now on.

Kris: Yes, yes you should.

Moonlight: What? Who are you?

Kris: I'm your evil muse who causes these plot bunnies.

Moonlight: And what if I don't listen?!

Kris: Look, if that's what you want, then yes. But I will kill you, it will be slow and painful, and they won't find your body for at least a year.

Moonlight: Good point! cowers in corner typing madly on fastly overheating laptop, mumbling to herself and wondering why even her own mind is against her

Peace,

MoonlightUmbreon


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note**

Moonlight: Long wait. I know. But, I'm getting on top of things now.

Kris: Finally!

Moonlight: You're the plot bunny creator! Don't you complain!

Kris: Fine... Anyway, this chapter is done in the Ghost Writer's viewpoint.

--

**The Fury of Madeline Fenton**

**By MoonlightUmbreon**

I invisibly looked into the violet-coloured eyes of Madeline Fenton, seeing the fury that was far from hidden beneath them. I figured that I'd be fine, so long as I kept myself invisible. However, I was wrong. She grabbed a pair of glasses off the table and found out my location instantly. Maybe they detected cold spots? I didn't know, but nonetheless, I wasn't just going to stick around and let the fury of Jazz's mother swallow me.

"You're not going to get away from me, ghost! No one tries to hurt _my _family!" she yelled as I flew closer to the portal, hoping to get back before she could start attacking however, she pushed her thumb onto some kind of genetic lock and closed the phase-proof door. Seeing no point in remaining hidden concidering she could see me anyway, I became visible again and tried to talk while she still hadn't grabbed one of the many weapons lying upon the bench-tops.

"Look, if we could just be civil for a moment," I began, but she cut me off.

"I would never speak civily with a manifestation of post-human consciousness like you!" she spat. Seeing as he didn't say anything more, she continued to rant. "How _dare _you try and even touch my family! You are one of the worst... Ugh!"

"Mum, wait!" Jazz said quickly. "He's not evil! He's benevolent, I've known him for days, if he was evil he would have attacked already!"

"You've brainwashed her into thinking your not all bad." Maddie said, surprisingly calmly. I raised an eyebrow at her, but she kept on talking. Amazingly, she hadn't taken to one of her guns yet, which was a surprise after what Jazz had told me about her 'shoot first, ask questions never' attitude. "And, you've obviously done it to my husband, too." she added after looking at Jack fleetingly, and noticing that he was looking confusedly at me. She then unexpectedly raised her voice, making me flinch. "YOU ARE THE MOST MALEVOLENT, EVIL GHOST I HAVE_ EVER_ MET!" she screeched in rage, diving for a vacuum cleaner that Jazz told him was called the Fenton Weasel. And after what I'd heard from her, it was not good for anything that got stuck inside. Her parents had always wanted to tear a ghost apart, 'molecule by molecule' if they ever got the chance.

I didn't hesitate and immediately tried to escape through the walls of the basement intangibly, only to find that it was shielded against such attempts. Maddie turned the device on and I felt myself getting sucked and squashed into a tiny, confined space where my limbs were pushed painfully into odd positions. And even though it was obvious, I tried to phase out fruitlessly. "Let me out of here!" I yelled. "One of my legs is bent into a position where it's touching my head!"

"I win, ghost." came the voice of Maddie. Although, then Jazz's voice came into the fray.

"Mum, let him out! Just because he's a ghost doesn't automatically make him bad! He's just as harmless as the next person, he's not just going to jump at you without reason!"

"Firstly," Maddie began, thumping her hand on the roof of my prison. "_It _is a ghost. Ghost _always _equals bad. Secondly, _it _has tried to brainwash the two of you into thinking it was good. Thirdly,"

"I am not an _it_!" I yell. "Please, just let me out of here! I need to go back to my library anyway!"

"Quiet!" Maddie's voice said sharply. "You'll not be going anywhere."

Suddenly I felt the Fenton Weasel rattle. I didn't know what was happening when suddenly I felt myself being pushed out of it and I sighed in relief at not being cramped up in a tiny, little space anymore. azz had pushed the button to allow my escape, so I immediately dashed for the stairs, I had to get out before her ghost-hunting mother had another go at me. I was forced to hold up an ecto-shield as I saw an ecto-gun pointed at me.

"For goodness sake, I'm not here to hurt anyone!" I said in exasperation, backing away. "Why can't you see that?"

Jack came over to his wife, and slowly made her put the gun down. "Mads, I think he's telling the truth." She merely shrugged him off."

"Jack, you and Jazz have clearly been brainwashed into thinking that." she said in a calm voice. Then it rose again. "That's why you are going down, ghost!"

I dropped the shield and fled from the house as quickly as I could, not chancing any of the walls until I was out of the basement. I didn't think I'd be able to convince Maddie of anything. Jack seems just... confused. When I'm outside and a fair distance away from the house, I begin wondering. I wasn't going to stay away, not with Jazz there. I'd just have to avoid Maddie. Probably Jack too, his face was too oblivious and confused. He could easily have his mind changed.

I sighed and look at the book, 'The Fright Before Christmas II' in my hands. I wondered how much Jazz had gotten through it. I'd have to ask when I managed to sneak in next. Then, one thought crossed my mind. Her brother, the hybrid, was coming home tonight. I'd have to deal with him _and_ his ghost sense. However, he should be able to be persuaded of my innocense far more easily than his mother and father. After all, he did learn, didn't he?

_I sure hope he did, or I'm in deep. _A small voice in his head said to me. I sighed and sat in the secluded allyway I was currently in, trying to think of a way other than the main portal back into the Ghost Zone. Unfortunately, no ideas came and I decided to wait for a while until they reoppened the portal.

**--**

**Author's Note**

Moonlight: I'm not sure that this is my best chapter.

Kris: Just let the reviewers decide, it's their opinions that count!

Moonlight: I never knew that you'd _ever _give me support!

Kris: There's a lot of things you don't know about me.

Moonlight: That can't be good...

Peace,

MoonlightUmbreon


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note

**Author's Note**

Yeah… about the updating time, I… well, I'm not going to get to excuses, they're useless and boring; mainly because I don't have any. So, finally, here it is!

**--**

**What's New?**

**By MoonlightUmbreon**

I looked at my book; at least it wasn't damaged. For around half an hour, I sat there, waiting. I wasn't going to go back to the Fenton household right away; that would be idiocy. But I couldn't go later that night, when Jazz's brother would be home; he would sense me, and I don't think he really appreciated being trapped in a poem on Christmas night.

Maybe now, they would have gone off high alert? I became invisible as I exited the alley – no need to attract unwanted attention. Finding my way back to the Fenton household, (which admittedly, wasn't hard with the glowing sign) I slipped in. So far so good – it didn't appear that they had any ghost detectors. I kept to the air so as not to make any sound with my feet and slowly headed downstairs into the basement. No one was here – it seemed as though I was in luck. As I approached the portal, I stopped dead.

_GHOST DIRECTLY AHEAD. YOU WOULD HAVE TO BE SOME SORT OF MORON TO NOT NOTICE THE GHOST DIRECTLY AHEAD._

No one seemed alerted by the sound. I breathed a sigh of relief, but then heard something _else _go off.

_SIGH. I AM A GHOST. FEAR ME._

On… whatever the heck that gadget was, the volume was up high. It boomed so loudly I instinctively put my hands to my ears.

There was a shadow coming down the stairs and into the basement. Well, at least they wouldn't see me here. …still, I was a little tense…

"What's down there?!" Jazz's voice came. Slowly and cautiously, she headed down the stairs. "I'm armed, so show yourself!"

I still didn't do as she asked – if her parents were there, I'd be in trouble. Deep trouble. I backed away until I was against the wall, so even if they were using those glasses, there might be some chance they wouldn't see me. _Yeah, right._ A little voice told me. _Shut up, at least I'm trying. _I mentally told myself.

No one came in after Jazz. I still couldn't risk that the Fenton parents might be waiting in ambush. She was currently wielding what she had told me was an ecto-rifle. Suddenly she picked up the Fenton Finder, pointing it around. Eventually the pointer found my location.

_GHOST DIRECTLY AHEAD. YOU WOULD HAVE TO BE SOME SORT OF MORON TO NOT NOTICE THE GHOST DIRECTLY AHEAD._

"I know where you are!" Jazz said. "Show yourself, or I'll shoot! I'm not kidding!"

Well, what other choice did I have? I became completely visible for just a second, then faded back into thin air.

"Writer!" Jazz said. "It's you! My parents aren't around at the moment. They went off to a Ghost Hunting convention fifteen minutes ago."

I sighed with relief, becoming completely visible again. "I thought they might still be here."

_SIGH. I THOUGH THEY MIGHT STILL BE HERE. I AM A GHOST. FEAR ME._

I growled at the contraption. Jazz gave an eye-roll as she picked it up and turned it off. "They never turn off anything. My parents, I mean. God knows if we're the real cause of Global Warming."

I was confused; what was Global Warming? I know I sure hadn't heard of it. Maybe it had something to do with being n the Ghost Zone for so long. Jazz realized my confusion before muttering "How can _anyone _no know about Global Warming…"I t

"Pardon?"

"Oh… sorry." Jazz said quickly. I didn't mention what I'd heard her say – everyone made slips like that occasionally. "Look… if you come with me, I've got a book about it that explains it all in my room. I can show you how it works and everything."

"Oh… yes please, thank-you!" I said gratefully. Generally, non-fiction wasn't my _favorite _genre, however the concept of Global Warming sounded interesting – I had no idea on how the world could get warmer. Unless, for some reason, that it was getting closer to the sun. Jazz began to head back upstairs, however I stopped her quickly.

"This way's faster."

I grabbed her hand and quickly flew through the ceiling and the ground floor, right through to her room. She looked a little startled, but still seemed as though she'd enjoyed it. "Whoa… give me a little warning next time!" her breathing was quite quick, however she was giving a slight smile. "Here… I'll get it."

Jazz began to flick through her enormous bookcase, finally pulling out a large, hardcover book.

_Our Heating Earth - a Guide to Global Warming_

I thanked her again and took it, flicking to the first page. It had a rather beautiful picture of the earth up against the sun. It was amazing – I didn't know a lot about the humans of this time, but somehow they must have gotten into space to create that photo. I stared at it for a moment, before reading the introduction. At first, I just shook my head – it didn't seem possible. After reading it, I closed the book and thought for a minute, processing what I'd just read.

"It doesn't seem possible." I stated rather bluntly. Jazz seemed to disagree.

"There's a lot of science to it, actually. You just have to keep reading to find it." Jazz commented back. "There's already proof – the polar icecaps are _melting_."

"_Melting?_" I said in disbelief. "They can't melt, they've been there for who-knows how long!"

"Well, now they can. And people are worried that it'll cause flooding on a massive scale. Australia will be flooded down completely, apparently. Especially if Antarctica goes."

Intrigued, I read on. Something I thought that would never happen had happened – I was being taught by someone not of great experience, but a human. And an adolescent at that. Just by looking at all the psychology books in her bookshelf, I could tell she was very interested in psychology, but even so, seemed to be wonderfully knowledgeable in this subject as well.

Having the Ghost Zone as my home, Global Warming didn't seem that frightful for me. However, I imagine to a human, the subject would seem quite scary; it had plenty of consequences – that was for sure.

Jazz and I discussed the issue for a while, as I flipped through the book and new questions arose.

It seemed I'd missed out on a lot whilst living in the Ghost Zone. And while I looked over the book, I couldn't help but wonder what other things I didn't know about on the modern earth…

**Author's Note:**

Next update will be There's Another Time Lord. I'm not going to procrastinate it any longer.

Peace,

-Moonlight


End file.
